An open letter to Lindsey Lohan...

Dearest Lindsey,
What happened to the cute little red-haired, freckle-faced girl who wreaked havoc on her evil shrew of a future stepmother in The Parent Trap? You were so precious, so precocious. I wanted to shrink you and your faux-twin sister and turn you into little dangly earrings – that’s how precious you were.

Then came Mean Girls Lindsey and I thought, “My little Lindsey is all grown up!” Sassier red hair, less obvious freckles…okay, so it was hard to ignore the new rack but your sparkly personality made them seem less…what’s the word…slutty. For the record, Linds, I don’t care whether they’re real or fake. Hell, if I had the cash and the tolerance for pain I would be at the surgeon’s office right now asking for a pair of “Lohans” of my very own.

But I digress…

Honestly, Lindsey, I don’t know where to start with you. The eating disorder would be too easy, although yes, I want you to eat a cheeseburger. I think you’re growing out of that phase. You seem to be filling out a bit and that makes me happy. (especially because now you’re only 100 pounds thinner than me instead of 110.)

I suppose I could start with the fact that you get more play than Donkey Kong. (Was that catty? I can never tell.) But I’ve lost track, Lindsey. You’ve been linked to Wilmer, Jared, Colin, Chad, George…GEORGE CLOONEY, Lindsey. How COULD you? I thought we were friends. I thought we had an understanding. Clearly I was wrong.

Actually, I’m concerned about your new friendship with Kate Moss and the constant slew of pictures of you popping up on the internet. Don’t play dumb with me. You know the ones I’m talking about – the ones of you trying to be cool and hardcore.

Listen up Ms. Freaky Friday, you will NEVER be hardcore and wearing black nail polish or hanging out with cokehead supermodels isn’t going to change that. Flashing gang signs and making lewd gestures…also not cool. Dressing like a Fifth Avenue bag lady…that’s Mary Kate and Ashley’s thing. Not yours. Let it go. Get your own ugly dressing habit – like Mariah Carey’s short, ill-fitting skirts, or Sienna Miller’s chaste peasant dresses.

I’ve developed a theory. I think you actually are a twin. I think there’s Good Lindsey (GL) and Evil-Slut-Bag (ESB) Lindsey. Clearly ESB Lindsey is getting all the media attention these days. I have a plan, GL. It involves a tranquilizer dart, a Big Brown Bag from Bloomingdales, and a large mailbox at the UPS Store on 81st and 1st. I shouldn’t put anything more in writing. Call me later and we can discuss.

Until then I’ll keep reciting a silent prayer for Herbie the Love Bug Lindsey, in the hope that one day we can be reunited. Until then, I’ll just have to dust off my Hayley Mills earrings.


Kisses,
Denise